Nickys Happy Ending
Nickys happy childhood ended when he was just five. One evening, his parents never came to collect him from nursery. All the other children had gone home, but the little boy sat at the table, drawing pictures of himself, his mum, and his dad. The nursery teacher kept glancing at him, wiping her cheeks as if brushing away tears. Finally, she scooped him into her arms, held him tightly, and whispered, “Whatever happens, you mustnt be afraid, Nicky. You must be brave nowdo you understand?”
“I want my mummy,” he murmured in reply.
“Your aunt and uncle will come for you soon, love. Therell be other children where youre goingjust dont cry.” She pressed her damp face against his before taking his hand and leading him to a waiting car. When he asked when hed see his parents again, they told him they were far away and wouldnt be coming back that day.
Nicky was placed in a dormitory with other boys just like him. But his parents never returnednot the next day, nor the day after. Heartbroken, he cried himself to sleep each night until he fell ill with fever. Only when he recovered did the matron in her crisp white apron sit him down and explain the truth. “Your parents are in Heaven now, love. They cant come back, but theyre always watching over you. So you must be good and stay well, so as not to upset them.”
But Nicky didnt believe it. He stared at the sky and saw nothing but clouds and birds. He vowed to find them, no matter what.
During outdoor play, he scoured the yard until he spotted a gap beneath the fence, where the iron bars had bent. Too small to squeeze through, he began digging, scraping away the loose, sandy soil until hed made a tunnel. One day, he wriggled free and dashed into the unfamiliar streets, desperate to escape the orphanage. Lost and afraid, he searched for home, but every terrace house looked the same.
Then he saw hera woman in a polka-dot dress, her fair hair pinned neatly up, just like his mother.
“Mum!” he called, stumbling after her.
She didnt turn.
“Mum!” He grabbed her skirt.
The woman crouched, studying his tear-streaked face. But she wasnt his mother.
Years earlier, Emily had fallen in love at twenty and married Victor after a whirlwind romance. Theyd met at a summer dance, where hed shyly asked her for a waltz. Three months later, they were wed, blissfully happyuntil Emily learned she could never bear children. Victor struggled to accept it, and Emily endured endless treatments at sanatoriums. When nothing worked, Victor suggested adoption, but Emily, heartbroken, offered to divorce him instead. “Youre still young. Marry someone who can give you a family.”
Victor refused. So Emily liedclaimed she no longer loved him, that there was another man. When Victor doubted her, she stayed out all night, reeking of whisky and cologne, insisting it was over. Devastated, he agreed to the divorce.
Two months later, as Emily wandered the streets, grieving, a lost boy called her “Mum.” Her heart leapt. “Are you lost, sweetheart?” she asked gently.
“Im looking for my parents. They said theyre in Heaven, but I dont believe it,” Nicky sobbed.
She took his hand. “Come, I live nearby. Fancy some cake?”
At her flat, Nicky devoured the treats shed bought, washing them down with fragrant blackcurrant tea. Between bites, he confessed how older boys bullied him, stealing his sweets and pinching his arms. Emilys heart ached. “What if I took you home with me?” she offered. “When youre grown, youll understand everything. Youll see your parents againjust not yet.” Nicky agreed at once.
She returned him to the orphanage, promising to visit daily. But as a single woman, she couldnt adopt him. For the first time, she regretted the divorceyet how could she win Victor back?
Desperate, she turned to her colleague, Simon, a charming divorcee. “Marry mejust on paper,” she pleaded. “Ill pay you.” Simon agreedbut demanded more than money. Disgusted, Emily refuseduntil she found Nicky with a fresh bruise, punished for “telling tales” to the staff.
That Saturday, she lit candles, dressed in red, and waited for Simon, sick with shame. Then the doorbell rangand there stood Victor. “Ive been watching you,” he admitted. “Youve had no visitors. Whos this other man?”
The lift doors clattered open, revealing Simon with champagne and roses. “Evening, Em”
Victor stormed out. Emily chased him, shouting explanations, but he vanished into the night.
Two years later, Nicky stood proudly in his school uniform, clutching flowers for his teacher. Beside him were his parentsEmily and Victorand his little sister, Maisie, giggling in their fathers arms. Emily wore the same polka-dot dress Nicky remembered.
Simon, it turned out, wasnt so bad after all. Hed tracked down Victor and told him the truth. The next day, Victor dragged Emily to the registry office, and they adopted Nickyand later, Maisie.
“Mum, Dad,” Nicky whispered, gazing at the sky, “Ill make you proud. Dont be sadI love them, but theyre just looking after me till I see you again.”
He knew nowhis parents had died in a car crash. He visited their graves. On Sundays, he attended church school and finally understood what “Heaven” meant.
As for Emily, shed nearly let pride ruin everything. But fate intervened, and she married Victor twice. And in the endeveryone was happy.
